City of Falling Stars
by divergentandproudofit
Summary: A relationship is the last thing Clary needs or wants when she moves to Brooklyn to escape the horrors of her past. But Jace Herondale isn't exactly the kind of person you can ignore. He draws her, and yet they both carry dark secrets. Will she escape his danger, or will he pull her in?AU/AH. Based off the song Sleepwalker by Adam Lambert. T for romance, cursing, and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**I will own TMI when Jace quits fighting demons.**

* * *

_It's like I can't even feel  
After the way you touched me  
I'm not asleep but I'm not awake  
After the way you loved me_

-Sleepwalker by Adam Lambert

* * *

**Clary**

Clarissa Fray stood up with a sigh and gently laid her sketchbook on her desk as her mother pounded on her bedroom door. Jocelyn Fray was a stubborn woman, and she worried, Clary knew, that her daughter hid in her room, preferring to draw instead of going out into the summer heat. The truth was, Clary didn't really feel like coming out to face the music. Ever since her mother had moved them halfway across the country from Detroit to Brooklyn, New York, to be closer to her boyfriend Luke, Clary had lost interest in the rest of the world. She didn't know anyone in Brooklyn excepting Luke and her cousin Simon, and she wasn't exactly the best at making friends. Clary had ruefully admitted to Simon that she got along better with a pencil and paper than she did with people.

"Clarissa, you come out this instant. You absolutely cannot stay in the crypt you call a bedroom any longer. Simon's band is doing a gig at the coffee shop around the corner, and you are going whether you like it or not."

Clary groaned and sat back down on the bed. Simon's band wasn't exactly the best in the universe, and his friend Eric was always saying things along the lines of "I've been looking for a hot redhead to spend the night with." As if she'd ever hook up with an idiot like Eric, who did nothing but talk about his latest girlfriend(s) and mooch off the rest of the band.

The door flew open and Clary's mother stood in the doorframe, wearing a very mad face. "Clarissa Fray. I will give you exactly one chance before I confiscate your sketchbook."

Clary nearly fell off the bed in her attempt to grab something out of her closet that _wasn't_ sweatpants and a tie-die shirt for once. Jocelyn left, and Clary quickly yanked a hair brush through her tangled red hair, muttering a curse as it stuck in a particularly nasty snarl. She really wished the whole thing hadn't come up, although school started in a couple weeks and she was going to have to get used to the situation, anyway. And since when did her mother know anything about Simon's band gigs? Considering that their name was currently Green Tinted Loins, it wasn't exactly something that Jocelyn was likely to be involved in. Clary quickly shoved her sketchbook in her bag along with a few pencils, thinking maybe she could grab a corner table and finish the sketch of an angel that she had been working on and pretend she didn't know Simon's band friends.

After all, staying invisible wasn't the hardest thing Clary Fray had ever done.

She made it halfway through the living room before Jocelyn took her arm and literally shoved her out the door, while Luke watched with silent amusement. Clary glared and tried to pry her mother's fingers from her wrist, but she was dragged out to the porch anyway. The front door slammed behind her and she stood all alone on the front step, clutching her bag to her chest and trying to decide if it was worth sneaking around to the clump of bushes in the back.

Unfortunately, she spotted Simon waving at her enthusiastically from his own porch. Seeing no other option, Clary crossed the street and went to meet her cousin. The day was hot and overcast, with dark clouds promising a summer rainstorm. Her feet crunched on the dry grass as she waited for Simon to drag his guitar down the stairs.

"Finally decided to come out of your hole, huh?" he said, hoisting a guitar case over one shoulder and falling into step beside her.

"More like I got kicked out of the house," she muttered. "You didn't plan this with my mom, did you?"

"No," he said, looking away quickly, but Clary had known Simon for her entire life and knew when he was lying.

"Simon Lewis, you are a terrible liar. You know that, right?"

"Sure."

The two walked in silence for a while, silently dripping sweat and swatting at the cloud of mosquitos that seemed to follow them up the street, yearning for a taste of blood.

"Is it alright if I just stay in the back and pretend that I don't know you people? No offense, Simon, but your band sucks. You really need a new name, by the way. I mean, c'mon. You could do a heck of a lot better than Tinted Green Loins."

"I know," Simon said miserably. "But it was either that or Hot Sexy Fish. And no, you may not stay in the back and act like you're not there. there are a couple friends of mine I want you to meet."

Clary groaned inwardly, but didn't protest. This was Simon, and she'd do pretty much anything for her favorite cousin. Even be nice to his geeky guy friends.

When they pushed open the door to the coffee shop, the rest of the band was already setting up. The coffeehouse was mostly empty minus the staff, the girlfriends of the other band members, an old guy sipping a latte in the corner, and three other teenagers Clary had never seen in her life. As Simon led her towards them, she realized belatedly that these must be his friends and mentally prepped herself for more weirdos in gamer shirts.

Simon's friends were a girl and two guys, seemingly deep in discussion. The girl was pretty, with a tiny waist and dark hair and beautiful pale skin, and Clary felt a flash of jealousy. Clary herself was pitifully short and had never been the prettiest, and was jealous of girls like Simon's friend even though she tried to convince herself it really didn't matter. One of the boys was pale and dark and looked a lot like the girl, who she supposed must be his sister, while the other was fair haired and tan. He had his feet up on the table in a way that suggested he couldn't care less. The blond looked up as Clary and Simon approached, and with a start Clary realized that he had golden eyes nearly the same shade as his hair. He was gorgeous, too, she had to admit, more so than most of the people Simon hung around with.

And he was looking straight at her.

"Guys, this is my cousin Clary. The girl I told you about. Clary, these are my friends Isabelle, Alec, and Jace."

The blond- Jace- surveyed her with apparent interest, leaning back even farther in his chair.

"Hi," Clary said uncertainly, having noticed that the only empty chair at their table was the one next to Jace.

"Keep an eye on her, okay? She's good at disappearing," said Simon with a cocky grin. Clary punched him in the arm. "What was that for?" he moaned, giving her his best puppy dog face.

"It's not like I turn invisible or anything. And I'm not a kid; I don't need a babysitter."

"How old are you, anyway?" asked Jace.

"Sixteen next sunday," Clary replied, sitting down and glancing at him warily.

"Gotta go, see you guys after the gig," Simon muttered, and dashed off before Clary could protest. Isabelle and Alec resumed their discussion, but Jace simply watched her, ignoring the glare she threw him.

In an attempt to distract herself, she opened her sketchbook to the angel page, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't focus. She could feel those golden eyes watching her every move. With a sinking heart, she realized that this Jace wasn't someone she could easily ignore.

**review, it means a lot to me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Clary**

"So how was the gig?" Jocelyn asked her daughter, taking a slice of pizza from the greasy cardboard box that Luke had brought home from his bookstore with him. Clary shrugged, and Luke, who was on his fourth slice of pizza, poked her in the arm.

"C'mon, Clary. _Something _interesting must have happened. There's no way a performance by a band called Green Tinted Loins was boring."

Clary suppressed a snort as she remembered Eric yelling loudly into the microphone in an imitation of what Simon called metal music and Clary called scream-o. Isabelle, the dark haired girl, had collapsed into laughter while Alec picked at his fingernails and Clary had attempted to draw. All in all, it hadn't been as bad as she had expected. Isabelle and Alec were fairly nice people, she supposed, even if Isabelle did tend to get a bit rambunctious. She'd offered to take Clary to the mall sometime, and Clary had reluctantly agreed. And then there was Jace...

Jace, with beautiful, strange golden eyes and an attitude that made her unsure whether she should applaud or slap him across the face. Jace who watched her as she drew, gently detailing the feathers on the angel's wings. Jace, whom she couldn't forget no matter how hard she tried.

Clary shook her head and asked to be excused.

To keep herself preoccupied so that she wouldn't think of Jace, she took out her precious sketchbook and worked on the angel drawing. But no matter how hard she tried otherwise, the angel always seemed to end up with Jace's features.

The sketchbook had been a present for her fifteenth birthday from her mother and Luke. It was beautiful. The cover design was a letter from the Scottish Book of Kells, and she took it with her almost everywhere, and even slept with it under her pillow some nights as if the drawings could somehow take life in her dreams. It was her precious, her escape, and she guarded its secrets jealously. It was like a journal, she thought, except in pictures. And right now, she wanted to draw Jace.

She sighed and flipped on her iPod, furiously tracing over the lines she'd erased just a minute ago. This picture was turning out to be her best yet; the angel held a sword in one had and a cup in the other, and had perfect details, with the exact angle of Jace's jaw and that same curly hair. The music filtered out through the speakers, low and sweet:

"_I saw a picture of you_  
_Hanging in an empty hallway_  
_I heard a voice that I knew_  
_And I couldn't walk away_  
_It took me back to the end_  
_Of everything_  
_I tasted all I tasted all_  
_The tears again..."_

She dropped the pencil for a minute and leaned back against her pillow. This song had always intrigued her, because of the mystery of what love did to people. It affected everyone in a different way, and although she had never actually fallen in love it seemed to her wild and unpredictable, a beast in hiding.

_"Outside the rain's fallin' down_  
_There's not a drop that hits me_  
_Scream at the sky but no sound_  
_Is leavin' my lips_  
_It's like I can't even feel_  
_After the way you touched me_  
_I'm not asleep but I'm not awake_  
_After the way you loved me..."_

Loud shouts and laughter sounded from outside, and Clary shut off the music, rolling onto her stomach to look out the window that sat just above her bed. It was dark, and drizzly, but Clary could clearly make out the figures in front of Simon's house. One was Simon, of course, apparently saying goodbye to Isabelle and Alec. And the other boy, she realized as her heart did a crazy flip, was Jace.

With his arm hooked through that of another girl's. They were standing very close, too close for Clary's comfort. He said something that made Simon roar with laughter, and then leaned down and kissed the unfamiliar girl.

It was starting to rain in earnest, and water ran in rivulets down the glass of Clary's bedroom window. She slowly slid the curtain back so it blocked out the image, and closed her eyes in despair.

Of course, he _would _have a girlfriend.

She tore the drawing from the sketchbook, crumpled it up, and hurled it against the wall, wanting desperately to weep hot, bitter tears for a boy she'd only just met.

That was about when she decided that she would have nothing more to do with Simon's hot friend Jace Herondale.

**REVIEW! OR ELSE!**


	3. Chapter 3

**By the way, the song in Chapter Two was Sleepwalker by Adam Lambert. I own nothing except my plot, iPod, and Kindle.**

When Clary awoke in the morning, a face with dark brown eyes, glasses, and a worried expression hovered inches from hers. She shrieked and sat up straight, clutching at the covers before she realized that it was only Simon.

"Jesus. Don't _do_ that," Clary muttered, glaring at him reproachfully and running her fingers through her tangled red hair in an unsuccessful attempt to flatten it.

"Actually, it's just me. Although I've been told I bear a striking resemblance". He sat down in the chair next to Clary's bed, seemingly unperturbed. "Your mom let me in. I was wondering if you wanted to go into the city with me and the Lightwoods."

"The Lightwoods?" she said dumbly. It was too early to think, and besides that, Clary was starving.

"Yeah. The Lightwoods. You know, Alec and Izzy and Jace."

"Oh. Them." Remembering what she'd seen last night, Clary felt suddenly tired and a little bit sick to her stomach. "I'm not really feeling too good, Simon. Maybe another-"

"You don't really have a choice," Simon interrupted, standing up again. "Your mom said that if you told me no, I had permission to knock you out and drag you with me. Her exact words. If you want my opinion, you'll be a bit more comfortable if you go willingly."

Clary groaned and threw a pillow at Simon's head. _"Out,"_ she ordered. "Unless you want to see me without any pants on. And don't say 'that's hot' or I will kill you."

Simon made a dash for the door, and a very grumpy Clary dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.

* * *

Two hours later, Clary was crammed next to Isabelle in the back seat of a taxi, watching the world go by at 55 miles an hour. Isabelle was chattering excitedly about a pair of velvet gloves she'd gotten on sale at Trash and Vaudeville the other day, and Jace was making snarky comments while Clary pretended to listen. In reality, her mind was far away, back in Detroit with her best friend Maia and Maia's boyfriend, Jordan. The two of them had really been her only friends, and she missed them like crazy.

She wished Maia was here so she could tell her about Jace.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Jace asked, and she turned her head to meet his gaze.

"Nope," she said, giving him a steely glare. Clary was used to dealing with annoying boys; after all, Simon was her cousin, and Eric The Jerk was one of his best friends. If only Jace wasn't so freaking _gorgeous,_ then he'd be easier to resist.

But he was. She dropped her gaze and resumed staring gloomily out the window.

"Almost there!" Alec yelled when they could clearly see the tall buildings outlined against the sky.

When they finally made their way through the crush of traffic and exited the taxi, Isabelle pounced on Clary and dragged her towards the line of stores. "We're going shopping," Izzy ordered, and Clary wondered, not for the first or last time, why she had ever agreed to this.

"I'm, um, going to meet a friend," Alec muttered, turning a light shade of pink.

Isabelle giggled and gave him a little wave. "Have fun with your little _boyfriend,_ Alec."

Alec flushed a healthy red, for once not looking pale and sickly. "Magnus is _not_ my _boyfriend."_

"Whatever you say, bro," Jace muttered, shaking his head.

Isabelle grabbed Clary's arm and pulled. "Let's go."

"Clothes shopping? I want to come," Jace said excitedly, hurrying after them. "I can give you lovely ladies fashion advice."

"Get lost, Herondale," Isabelle told him. "Go look at video games with Simon."

"She's only jealous of my stunning attractiveness," Jace said in a stage whisper to Clary. "You know how it is."

Clary rolled her eyes and wondered how it was possible to want to kiss him and smack him at the same time.

* * *

About an hour later, Isabelle and Clary made their way over to a restaurant on East 34th street, laden with shopping bags and guesses about what Alec was doing with Magnus at the moment (which came mostly from Isabelle).

Clary, on the other hand, was preoccupied, thinking about Jace and the girl last night. Why the hell did the thought of Jace with a girlfriend make her want to puke, especially since she barely knew him in the first place? For all Clary knew, he could be a murderer and a sociopath. But Clary had to know who the mysterious girl was.

So she asked the question that was probably the biggest mistake she'd made in her life.

"Does Jace have a girlfriend?"

Isabelle snorted. "Why? You want a piece of that?"

"No. I was just wondering." Clary could have kicked herself- that was the worst excuse she'd heard in a long time.

"Well," Isabelle said slowly, glancing around to make sure Jace wasn't around, "he sort of does. Her name's Aline, she's okay but she's got a reputation for being a bit of a slut. I think they're probably more like hook up buddies than anything else."

Clary immediately regretted asking, and turned her head so Isabelle didn't catch her blush. Really, had she expected anything else?

Of course she had, sort of. But not really. Jace's attitude spoke for itself.

She needed to get the beautiful Jace Herondale somewhere in the back of her mind, where she'd never think about him that way ever again.

Unfortunately, judging from the way she nearly stopped breathing when they saw Jace and Simon heading their way, battling the crowd, that was easier said than done. They were waiting in front of a slightly dingy-looking diner, grinning and bearing what Clary was fairly sure were bags filled with the latest video games.

What was it with guys and video games?

Jace held the door of the diner open for her, and she pushed her way inside with a muttered thanks. His hand brushed hers for a slight second, just before the door closed, so lightly it could have been an accident, or even Clary's imagination. But the strange feeling that swept over her was stronger than any she'd known before.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: here is my slightly late update, this week is finals week but I have winter break next week, so I'll be able to write more then. On a different note, I'm considering changing the title of this story from Sleepwalker to City of Falling Stars. Opinions are welcome. **

Clary slammed the door behind her and sank down onto the couch. It had been a long, exhausting day, and she had been hauling bags laden with clothes all around the city. It was nice to finally be able to have some peace and quiet, especially since Luke and her mother had gone out and weren't likely to be back for another few hours at least. Hopefully she would be able to banish Jace from her mind for another hour or so so that she could sketch- but that wasn't likely to happen.

She couldn't help wondering where he was. He'd left the restaurant early, and when Isabelle had inquired of his destination, he simply had replied "I've got a date." But something told Clary that his words weren't entirely true. It was none of her business, anyway; but Clary couldn't help but notice the way his golden eyes had darkened and he turned away when he spoke them.

She drew the curtain back from her window and gazed out into the hot Brooklyn night. As she watched the silent street below her, the memories she'd always tried to suppress crept up on her, as they so often did in the silent moments when her mind was quiet.

Pain. Screaming. Blood. Light hair and dark eyes. Metal. Her mother, all red hair and pale skin, crumpling to the floor. Darkness, and fear threatening to choke what was left of her sanity out of her.

The past was a dangerous thing, as she'd learned, and it was better this way, in Brooklyn where Simon and Luke would protect them, instead of in New Jersey where _they_ still poisoned the air.

It was better to forget the Morgensterns, the father and brother she had never loved.

Except she _had,_ in some dark corner of her mind, wanted their approval and their respect. They had treated her and Jocelyn like so much useless trash, but she had wanted so desperately to please them, so maybe they would love her and stop hurting her. _It's for your own good,_ her brother always said, right before he'd taken her.

Her brother, who had carved the scars so deeply not into her body but her soul as well, until forgetting was impossible.

He had the same name as Jace: Jonathan Christopher. It was strange, undoubtedly. But Clary forced herself to be strong; she could not and would not let the past touch her. Which was probably why Jace both attracted and repelled her so much.

She was so preoccupied with the past, she did not notice the Jonathan of the present until he was nearly gone. When she finally did see him, she let out an audible gasp and slipped on her shoes, leaving the front door wide open in her rush.

She sprinted to catch up to him, slowing her pace as he turned towards her with an unreadable expression.

"Clary?" he said. "Why are you following me?"

"Where are you going?" she countered, her hands on her hips. His liquid golden eyes hardened like ice, and he strode forward until he stood directly in front of her, towering over her. "Why should I tell you?" he said, and to her suprise took hold of her wrist.

_His dark eyes gleamed in the dim light of the basement, and Clary backed up against the wall, willing herself not to scream. He might go easy on her if she did not scream..._

She clenched her fists, thrusting the memories to the back of her subconscious where they belonged, and glared up at the boy who stood in front of her now.

"I want to know," she said simply. This Jonathan was _not_ the awful brother of her memories. This Jonathan would not hurt her.

So why did Clary feel so small and afraid?

"Somewhere you don't belong," he told her, releasing his grip on her wrist. Before she could say anything else, he disappeared into the night.

**I reposted this chapter for two reasons. One, because it was pitifully short, and two, to let you know that I will be changing the title from Sleepwalker to City of Fallen Stars. The next chapter is almost finished and will be posted as soon as possible. Thanks for reading :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**The next morning**

She stared at the markings sliced into her skin, the scars that were too much a part of her now, and let the paper in her hands flutter onto the carpet. Her small hands clenched into fists, the anger threatening to overcome her calm demeanor.

Clary swore she'd make them regret it some day, those men who had cruelly marked her as their own. She hated them so much it scared her. Her hate for Jonathan and Valentine Morgenstern was almost a living, breathing thing. It was obvious that it was going to be one of those days.

God, she wanted to rip their flesh from their bones, beat them senseless, hurt the until they could no longer speak, move, or breathe, just as they had done to her. It was surprising that one so small could contain so much rage. Drawing had been her therapy, and was the only thing that helped her on her worst days. Her art told a story, of secrets and blood and betrayal.

On the day that they had finally escaped the wrath of the Morgensterns, it had all felt like a dream to Clary. One of their neighbors in New Jersey had heard Jocelyn and Clary's screams from the basement and called the police, who had burst into the house just as Valentine Morgenstern slammed Jocelyn against the wall- again- and put her in a coma. The police had arrested Valentine and Jonathan, and taken Clary and Jocelyn to the hospital. But no matter how hard they tried, no doctor could erase the rune-like scars carved onto both Clary and her mother, or Jonathan's last words to his sister- _you can't hide from me. I'll find you again. And I'll kill you._

It was the psychiatrist that she visited one Thursday a month, Magnus Bane, who had suggested art to her and had been content to listen instead of trying to make her do breathing exercises, or puzzles, like the other doctors. She liked him, because he never probed or asked questions. Sometimes, she would bring her sketchbook to Magnus's office and draw the whole time while he fell asleep in his chair.

Now, though, the drawing did her no good. Clary just needed to get out of the house, away from here. She yanked her wild red hair into a braid, threw on some sneakers, and stepped out of the house to go for a run. She was considering whether she should go up to Luke's tiny bookshop or maybe go up to Prospect Park when she saw Jace- again. He looked tired and his hair was rumpled, yawning as though he hadn't slept all night. She wondered for a second just _where _he had been, then decided that she probably didn't want to know the answer.

"So we meet again," said Jace lazily. He lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck- and that's when Clary saw the scar on his shoulder, so much like her own marks that she shivered.

It couldn't be. Impossible.

He caught her staring at his shoulder and quickly yanked his sleeve down, but it was too late. She'd already seen it. But she wasn't about to ask questions. If Jace wanted to talk about it, he would. It was that simple.

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Going somewhere in particular?"

"Not really. You?"

"I was thinking of walking up to Prospect Park."

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked, and Clary shrugged. "Whatever."

"Although can we avoid the pond, if you don't mind? I rather dislike ducks. Ducks are evil. Never trust a duck."

Clary snorted with laughter, and Jace gave her a brief smile in response. "Do you know, once Simon and I wanted to breed a race of cannibal ducks, and so we fed the ducks at the Park some leftover chicken and duck from dinner."

"And?" Clary asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They ate it. Evil little bastards."

"No way," Clary shouted, collapsing in a fit of giggles.

"It's true. Nearly bit my fingers off as well."

"But ducks don't even have _teeth_," Clary said, gasping for air. Jace wiggled his fingers at her. "See that scar?"

Clary hadn't been this happy in forever. As they headed for the park, she felt someone watching her, and turned around. She thought she saw someone duck into an alley, but it could have been her mind overreacting. She shook her head to clear it and continued walking.

**I got the part about the cannibal ducks from the Infernal Devices, which I recently finished reading and crying over (expect an Infernal Devices fanfiction soon.)**

**Yes, Prospect Park is a real place (I looked up Brooklyn on Google maps to find a park and it was the first one I saw.)**

**Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate, and thanks for reading! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Songs for the chapter are Too Close by Alex Clare and Falling by The Civil Wars.**

"So, why did you come here?"

"What?" Clary asked, tearing her eyes away from the beautiful mosaics on the Oriental pavilion that she'd been contemplating. She and Jace had spent the day in the park, trading jokes, avoiding the ducks, and admiring the view. It was getting dark, and her mother would probably be worried, but Clary was having too much fun to care.

"I said _why_ did you and your mom move to Brooklyn?"Jace repeated, his golden eyes focusing on her with a strange intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she couldn't look away from him, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

_The metal sliced into her skin and she bit down on her lip so hard that her teeth drew blood. No matter what, she would not cry out. She would be strong like they wnted her to be and she would not scream. He grinned, and his cold eyes glittered as his hand slid down her waist and onto the button of her jeans. _"No," _she whispered, horrified. "Jonathan, _please._.."_

_He laughed, an icy, mirthless sound that chilled her to the bone. And she screamed._

Clary clenched her hands into fists and with an enormous effort of will focused on the boy in front of her. But no matter how gorgeous he was, she could not, would not, tell him about her dark past. That was a secret that only Clary, Jocelyn, Luke, and Simon's family knew, and she wasn't about to give it up to the almost-stranger who shared her brother's name.

"Mostly because of my mom's job," she forced herself to say, pleased that it only came out a little uneven. "She's a painter, you know, and her art wasn't really selling back in Mantua, the town we lived in. I think she also wanted to be closer to her boyfriend." It was only partly a lie. Jocelyn had been having an affair with Luke for months before they had been rescued, and Luke had offered to let Clary and her mother move in with him after Jocelyn had come out of her coma. Brooklyn was far away from Mantua, and for the first time in possibly her entire life, Clary had felt _safe. _She still fostered a deep mistrust of anyone who wasn't her mother, Simon, or Luke, though, and she'd been content to hide in her bedroom, safe from the rest of a dangerous world.

Clary suddenly became aware of how close Jace was, close enough that if she moved her arm, over even two inches, they would be touching. Her heart sped up and her mouth felt dry. She swallowed and bit her lip, drying her sweaty palms on her jeans. She wondered, for a minute, what it would be like for Jace to touch her as her brother had, to press his lips against hers and...

No. _No. _Why was she thinking these things? She should fell disgust at the thought of anyone doing to her what Jonathan had, just as any normal human being who'd been through that horror would. But she couldn't stop herself. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand crept out just a little further until it touched his. Jace smiled then, a smile that reached his eyes and transformed his face, making him seem even more beautiful. He was so _different _from her brother, she thought, not cruel and sadistic but funny and sweet.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," he whispered, his breath tickling her skin and making her shiver. They were close, now, so close, breathing the same air- or they would be, if Clary could remember how to breathe.

"Why?" she mumbled, transfixed as he gently ran a fingertip down her palm.

_What if he kisses me?_

_What if he doesn't?_

"Isn't it obvious?" he whispered back.

And then he pressed her against the wall of the pavilion and kissed her. She was flying, or falling, she was unsure which, and this was nothing like she had felt when her brother tried these things. This was _Jace,_ and it was perfect, everything she had ever wanted...

She pushed him away and smacked him across the face, breathing hard as though she had just run a marathon. It was too soon.

"What was _that_ for?" Jace asked, hurt and confusion creeping into his voice. "I thought you wanted this."

Her voice surprised her when it came out, hard and cold and cruel, and not at all what she had wanted to say. She _wanted_ to apologize to Jace for being so weak, and to spill everything that had happened in the past fifteen years to him. Instead, she heard herself say, "well, you thought wrong."

She left him by the Oriental Pavilion and ran, home where Simon would comfort her and make her laugh and Luke would show her how to cook beef stew and she could sit alone in her room and cry.

She was so unsure if what she wanted, what she _needed_, that the crying part was all she really could do.

**I was just on the phone with Simon, and he says to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

_I keep running away, running away  
Running away from you  
But I can't stand breaking the chains,  
Breaking the chains, breaking the chains  
It's too good_

**Chokehold by Adam Lambert**

* * *

Clary walked out of shower, deep in thought, and shrieked when she saw Simon sitting on her bed. "What the fuck, Simon?" she muttered, pulling her towel up and crossing her arms over her chest, shooting a glare in his direction. "At least go in the closet or something. I mean, really. If my mom tells you I'm in the shower, the least you could do is wait outside."

Simon raised his hands in defeat. "Okay. Fine. I'll be right outside." He made a hasty retreat through the door of Clary's bedroom, and she flopped down on her bed with a sigh. She'd come home to escape her inner demons and cry her heart out, only to find one of her four 'outer demons' plaguing her. Again.

But she knew Simon, and he was persistent. If she refused to talk to him, he would probably kick her door down, no matter how naked she was. She grumbled again and got dressed.

"There's no rest for the wicked, I suppose," she said as she let Simon back in, sticking out her tongue like a little kid.

"Real mature, Fray. That time of the month, huh?"

She punched him in the arm- HARD -and he dramatically fell off the bed. "I'm wounded! I am surely doomed! Mercy, my fair lady, show some mercy!"

Clary rolled her eyes and, with a toss of her sleek red hair, stretched out a hand to help him up. When they were both sitting on the bed again, Clary asked her cousin, "so what's wrong? Need a band name that doesn't suck?"

"Actually, no. Our current name is Nice Rack. Eric's suggestion."

"Eric is a sexist pig. Maybe you should call your band The Sexist Pigs."

"It has a certain ring to it. But I actually wanted to talk about Jace."

Clary winced and said an unladylike word. "Please don't mention him in front of me ever again."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"No, really." She buried her face in her hands. "I just can't face him right now."

She could still taste him on her lips, feel the warmth of his skin and the strength of the muscles beneath his shirt, and the force with which he'd shoved her against the wall. She could still see the hurt on his face, the red welt where she'd slapped him. She remembered herself turning away, and then running, coming home and slamming the door and crumbling like a sheet of unwanted paper...

No, she certainly did not want to talk about Jace.

"Look, Clary." He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she didn't push him away. "Have is pretty torn up about this whole thing. When you left, he came straight to me and begged me to talk to you. And that look in his eyes... well, I just couldn't turn him down."

Clary looked up, her face wet with tears. Simon was the only person that saw her cry, nowadays." Doesn't Jace have a girlfriend? Is he even supposed to be kissing me?"

"He kissed you?" Simon asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You didn't know that?"

Simon shook his head. "He didn't tell me that part. But no, he broke up with Aline yesterday, said he was in love with someone else. Not that it really matters to her. I think she might be gay."

She raised her eyebrows and nudged Simon with her elbow. "Really. They seemed pretty cozy when I saw them together."

He shrugged in response. "Aline is Aline. I've learned to live with her."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't have a relationship right now. Not after..." _Not after Jonathan._

"You at least owe him an explanation. He's crashed at my house at the moment, and honestly, I've never seen him so messed up over a girl. Usually it's the girls that get their hearts broken by _him._ I would have told him about Jonathan, but it wasn't my secret to tell."

Clary clenched her hands into fists and glowered at the ceiling. "Fine. But if he thinks this means I'll let him screw me on your couch, he's got another think coming."

Simon threw back his head and laughed.

**Review, and the next chapter might come a bit faster!**


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is very emotional- it goes from angry to sad to fluffy and sweet. I had kind of an interesting time writing it- I sometimes act out scenes if I'm not sure how certain characters might react, and my mom came up twice to ask who I was yelling at...**

**The song for the chapter is Stay The Night by Zedd.**

When they arrived at Simon's house, they found Jace sprawled across the futon in the basement, reading a book. Video games and controllers were scattered all around, and posters depicting games such as Minecraft and Skyrim were taped haphazardly on the walls.

Simon's basement was just so _normal,_ brightly lit with no graffitied pentagrams or blood-encrusted manacles. There were no sharp knives, no whips, and, best of all, no Jonathan Christopher Morgensterns.

Only Jace. Who was almost as scary, considering the power he had over her.

"You actually convinced her to talk to me?" Jace laid the book down with a strained smile, and Clary snuck a peek at the title: The Hunger Games. Clary smiled inwardly. She should have known Jace wouldn't be reading a book that didn't involve killing things. "You must be a better diplomat than I thought."

Clary sat down on the edge of the futon, gently running a hand over the spine of the book. "I'm sorry I slapped you," she said, not daring to meet his eyes.

"She _apologized,"_ he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Someone get a video camera, because that's not likely to happen again."

Clary clenched her hand into a fist, making the swirling scar stand out even more clearly.

"Jace, be nice," Simon warned.

Jace lay back on the futon and sighed dramatically. Clary glowered at him and mumbled a rude word under her breath. "It was just a kiss. I don't see the big deal."

"'Just a kiss'?" he replied mournfully. "How quickly you dismiss our love."

Clary's head snapped up and she looked him straight in the eye. "You know, if you want people to apologize more often, maybe you should stop acting like that!" she said furiously.

"Like what?"

"Like you don't care. Like nothing ever hurts you." Clary shook her head. "Look, jackass, I don't care if you've gotten whatever you want your whole life and can't bear to hear a girl say no. Well guess what? I'm sick of dealing with hot, popular jerks who do whatever the hell they want. And you would be, too, if you'd been attacked by your own brother!"

Both Jace's and Simon's mouths fell open in shock, and Clary glared at them both, her nails scratching the wood of the futon. She could feel the heat of tears starting to build up behind her eyes, and she stared at one of the bright lights overhead, willing herself not to cry. Simon turned away uncomfortably and murmured something about making pizza, and suddenly it was just Jace and Clary, alone in the basement.

"God, I'm so sorry, Clary," Jace said, moving closer. "If I had _known-"_

"You'd have what? Taken things slower? That's bull crap, and we both know it. Jonathan Christopher Herondale-"

But whatever Clary had been about to say had gotten lost inside her head, and suddenly she was sobbing like a baby, her head on her knees. _Oh my God_,Clary thought miserably, _he must think I'm so weak now. Smart move, real smart.._.

She felt rather than saw Jace move until he sat behind her, slowly reaching out so that his arms encircled her. A few minutes ago, she probably would have killed him for that, but something inside her had shifted when the tears began.

"Clary..." Jace whispered, hugging her fiercely, and she gently placed her hands on his back.

"He took me," she said into his shirt, her voice muffled. "My brother, I mean. While my father did the same thing to our mom. And afterwards..." she gulped, unable to say the words. She pushed up her sleeve and showed him her arm, and he stared in wordless horror.

"I swear to God if I ever meet your father and brother, I will kill them. That is fucked up. This is wrong, Clary, and I'm sorry for pushing you too far..."

"He had your name, you know," she whispered, reaching for a tissue from the side table. "Jonathan Christopher."

Green eyes met gold, and he held her gaze for a long moment.

"I watched my father die when I was ten," Jace said finally. "Cancer. He was a crazy alcoholic, and when he was drunk... well, he just wasn't Dad anymore. I never knew my mother, she took off when I was only a couple weeks old. I honestly don't blame her. But the social workers weren't able to find her, and so I live with the Lightwoods."

"This probably sounds really redundant, but I'm sorry," she said, resting her head on his chest.

"Don't be," he replied. "I miss him sometimes, but I'm probably better off without him." He gave a short, mirthless chuckle.

Clary stretched out a hand to touch his face, hovering uncertainly when she realized what she was about to do. Jace caught it, guiding her fingers to his cheek.

"You know, if you want me to rip my clothes off, all you have to do is ask."

Clary snorted with laughter." I told Simon before we left my house that there was no way I was going to let you screw me on his couch. So, no."

Jace grinned. "I suppose he'll hold you to that, then."

Clary yawned and checked her watch, wincing when she saw how late it was. Jocelyn would be livid.

Clary slid her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed her mother's number.

"Hi, mom, can I spend the night at Simon's?"

* * *

When Simon returned downstairs with a slightly overcooked cheese pizza, he gasped aloud. Clary and Jace were fast asleep, cradled in each other's arms, and Clary had a happy smile on her face.

Simon dropped the pizza.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE BOTTOM.**

**Songs for this chapter are Wake Me Up by Avicii and What Do You Want From Me by Adam Lambert. **

The first thing Clary was aware of when she woke was a delicious warmth. She blinked and yawned, burrowing closer to the source of the heat- until she realized that she was on Simon's futon, and Jace was lying next to her, taking up way more than his fair share of their makeshift bed. Someone had draped a blanket over the two of them, and Jace was still fast asleep.

She swore under her breath and propped herself up on one elbow, wondering what the hell she'd done and then flushing slightly as she remembered the events of last night.

Her yelling. Jace apologizing, and holding her while she cried, and telling her about his dad. They hadn't done anything else, but what they had seemed to her strangely intimate. Not to mention that she'd spent the whole night in his arms...

She sat up and looked out at the rest of the room, suppressing a giggle as she noticed Simon, passed out on the floor with a blanket and what was probably about a gallon of drool. She couldn't remember him coming back in, so he must've arrived after they'd fallen asleep. In the silver-grey dawn light filtering in through the dirty basement windows, she could just make out his glasses, still on his face, dangling from one ear. She snorted, and Jace stirred restlessly beside her, muttering something about his father.

She turned and sat cross legged on the futon, watching the light dance across his face, illuminating his golden hair. Jace looked younger when he slept, not as arrogant or as scarred. She could almost imagine him as the little boy he was when his father died.

"Can't get enough of my stunning good looks?" he said sleepily, barely opening one eye. Clary blushed and turned away, hugging her knees and wishing he wasn't so damn attractive for once.

"Actually," she replied confidently, " I was contemplating your disgusting hideousness. Also, did you know you snore?"

"Aw, come on," he said indifferently, stretching both arms out behind his head. "You know that's not true."

"The snoring or the hideousness?" she said with raised eyebrows.

"Both," he said, shoving her gently, and she permitted herself to remember the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, the fierce protective embrace, for a moment.

"Jace," she whispered, locking her green eyes with his golden ones. They both stared at each other and he moved his hand, ever so slowly, until it covered hers, gently running his thumb over her knuckles. She could feel the heat between them growing with each passing moment until Simon finally broke the silence.

"Good Lord. Only seven in the morning and you're already trying to kill each other. Can't a guy have some peace?"

Jace held up a finger for Simon to see, not breaking eye contact with Clary or releasing her hand. Simon groaned and shoved his glasses back onto his face, getting to his feet.

If they had been alone Jace would have kissed her; Clary was sure of it. But all she said to him was "get out of my bed, Herondale."

And with that she kneed him in the chest, hard enough for such a small person that he rolled off the futon in surprise, wincing as he smacked the floor.

"Shit," he moaned, and Clary couldn't stop the evil grin that spread across her face. Simon laughed and Clary innocently combed through her hair with her fingers. Jace rolled over and grabbed the sides of the futon, ready to deliver retribution, but stopped short when he noticed the stain on the basement floor that Clary was reasonably sure hadn't been there the night before.

"Simon, is that _blood?"_ Jace asked his friend, crossing his arms and staring incredulously at the offending dark red smudge. "Anything you need to tell me?"

"It's _pizza sauce,"_ Simon said hastily, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose. "I dropped a pizza last night. Anything _you_ want to talk to _me_ about?" he inquired, looking from Jace to Clary and back again. "Because I was pretty sure Clary said something to me about not letting you screw her on my couch."

"It's not like-" Clary began, and then caught Jace's eye. He raised an eyebrow at her, but instead of responding, she turned away, facing the wall.

She still wasn't quite ready for that, no matter what had passed between them the night before. Even though she could recall the taste of Jace's lips and the warmth of his hands as easily as if it were two minutes ago, she could also still remember Jonathan's knife and force and fury. And no matter how often she was told she was safe here, she still couldn't quite believe it.

She wanted Jace more than she wanted almost anything else in the world, but she was scared to death of being with him. He could hurt her worse than Jonathan did because this time, she actually wanted to be with him.

Clary was so deep in thought that she didn't notice Simon sneaking up behind her until it was too late. He shoved her off the futon and she fell to the ground with a shriek- right into Jace's arms. They lay like that for a moment, Clary on top and breathing heavily, her eyes wide.

Jace opened his mouth, probably in preparation to deliver another sarcastic retort, but what came out was different than what Clary had been expecting.

"I'll always be here if you need me," he said simply.

**Okay. We have a problem. I posted two chapters yesterday and only got three reviews. I'm sorry if this makes me sound like a whiney two year old, but this does not make me happy. Reviews are a lot of what motivates me to write, especially on my really, really bad days, and if I don't get them, I don't write. It's that simple. I try to review every story that I read, even if it's just something like 'really good'. So please, have a heart and post a review. I'm not trying to be mean here, I just want to say that your reviews mean quite a lot to me, and it would be nice if y'all would review.**

**This ends my rant. Sorry if I sounded like a bit of a bitch. Thank you for your consideration.**


	10. Chapter 10

**The theme songs for the chapter are Boys (Lesson One) by Jars of Clay and Clarity by Zedd. Short and rather shitty chapter, I'll go back and edit later. I'm on a schedule here**

"Wait. What?" Isabelle asked for what was probably the millionth time. "So you and Jace spent the entire night on Simon's bed... and you didn't even kiss?"

Clary rolled her eyes and wondered for a moment why she had bothered confiding in Izzy. She'd come with Simon to the Lightwoods' huge manor house in the hopes that the other girl could help her sort out her tangled feelings for Jace, but so far she hadn't done much. What Clary really needed was Maia.

Maia had been her only friend back in Mantua, and she was Clary's sole confidante, although she had known nothing about the awful Morgensterns. She didn't pry, and when Clary was allowed to spend the night at her house, they'd stay up talking for hours. Maia would know what to do about Jace, Clary thought wistfully.

"I'm not ready for that stuff yet," she explained to her clueless friend. "Also, technically it was a futon, not a bed."

Isabelle shrugged. "Same difference. Actually, I'd take a night with Jace or Simon anytime."

Clary's mouth fell open. "But Jace... he's like your brother!"

Isabelle laughed. "Adopted. So I can still call him sexy without getting arrested. Are you sure you don't like him?"

Clary put her head in her hands. "You're impossible."

Isabelle clapped her hands in excitement, bouncing up and down on the enormous pink bed. "You do like him! I knew it!"

Clary looked around the room and tried to come up with a viable response, but in her heart she knew that it wasn't possible. Isabelle had her cornered, and they both knew it.

"Maybe a little bit," she conceded, freeing her dark red hair from its ponytail and letting it fall over her face. It was probably the only thing in Isabelle's bedroom that wasn't pink or black.

The walls were a horrid shade of magenta, and the place was a mess. Clothes were plied everywhere and a lacy bra dangled from the ceiling fan. Glitter and empty bottles of perfume and makeup were scattered everywhere. It made Clary's eyes burn just looking at it. She wasn't sure where Jace and Simon were, either- it was easy to get lost in the gigantic maze the Lightwoods called a house.

Church, Isabelle's grey tabby cat, rolled over and gave a rusty meow. Clary absently stroked his belly as Izzy scribbled something down on a piece of paper.

"Here," she said, folding it into Clary's hand. "Jace's phone number."

"But Isabelle-"

The door sprang open with a crack and Church slept off the bed, stalking out of the room. Simon and Jace stood framed in the doorway.

"Does anyone want to go into the city?" Simon asked cheerfully, taking in the room and it's contents, raising his eyebrows when he saw the bra on the ceiling fan.

Isabelle glared and took it down, shoving it into her closet while Clary hid a smile. The smile soon disappeared, though, when Isabelle did the absolute last thing Clary would have expected to do.

She marched to the front of the room, grabbed Simon by the shirt, and kissed him.

Jace and Clary looked at each other, and Clary shrugged as if to say, _What's with her?_ Jace looked wistful for a fleeting moment; Clary wondered if he was remembering their own kiss, just as she was. She remembered his words from the morning, and couldn't help staring at him longer than she probably should have.

_I'll be here whenever you need me._

Was that Jace's way of saying 'I love you'?

**Long rant (feel free to skip)**

**Decided to write again to help my mood- I just found out that I'm being dragged to Tennessee tomorrow, RIGHT AFTER I GET MY FREAKING TEETH PULLED, so I will be:**

**1. Miserable in the car for 5 hours with a sore mouth and three psycho sisters 2. Unable to get the Amazon order that was supposed to come tomorrow (no, I DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE LEAVING MY ANGELIC RUNE NECKLACE ON THE DOORSTEP FOR FOUR DAYS, THANKS) 3. Bored. Out. Of. My. Effing. Mind.**

**(Sorry about that. I just need to rant about my awful life some days. Thanks for putting up with my cranky psychoness. 3 you all!)**


	11. Chapter 11

**The songs for this chapter are Love Somebody by Maroon 5 and Counting Stars by One Republic. I'm sorry for any mistakes; my autocorrect likes changing Jace to Have and Clary to Clato.**

**Damn autocorrect.**

Once again Clary was crammed in the back of a taxi with Isabelle, Jace, and Simon, heading for New York city. Only this time, Isabelle was practically seated on Simon's lap, and they were making out like there was no tomorrow. Ever since that first kiss in Isabelle's room, the two had been practically glued together.

It made things quite awkward for Jace and Clary, considering all that had passed between them.

Clary knew Jace wanted something from her, but she wasn't sure what, exactly. There was a lot about there relationship that she didn't know, but she was certain of one thing: there was no way in Hell that Jace wanted to be 'just friends'. Whether he needed her in the same way she needed him, or whether he was just out to break her heart, she wasn't quite sure.

He was very different from anyone else she'd known, and she found her eyes drawn to him more and more as the day wore on. She noticed the littlest things; The way he moved, the way his hair fell over his face. The way his golden eyes got slightly darker when he was staring at-

She sucked in a sharp breath. He was looking right at her. Her green eyes widened and she blinked in surprise. He didn't look at her the way Simon and her mother did sometimes, as if she was too small and weak to be of much use, and they pitied her for it.

No, this was something much, much different. There was something of the way Jordan had looked at Maia in it, and something fierce, too, like an undercurrent of steel.

She had been staring at him for far too long.

Clary dropped her gaze and looked at the dirty floor of the taxicab. Until that moment, she hadn't realized just how much he affected her. It awakened something powerful inside her, like a wave, and there was no way to stop it.

Clary felt something felt something brush her hand, and she froze, her breath trapped in her chest. Jace took her hand and cupped it between both of his, and a shiver went down her back.

"Your hand is so small," he murmured, almost to himself, and Clary gave him a tiny, secret smile.

"I've noticed."

The taxi swerved onto Fifth Avenue, and Clary was thrown against Jace. He caught her by the wrists and gently shoved her to the right, helping her to regain her balance.

"Thanks," Clary said, her voice slightly uneven.

"Anytime," Jace said lazily, but she couldn't help but notice that his voice was slightly uneven too. The cab pulled up to the sidewalk and the four friends tumbled out into the city street.

"Let's get out of here," Jace muttered, casting an exasperated glance at Simon and Isabelle, engaged in a conversation that Clary had a sneaking suspicion was about Dungeons and Dragons. Clary needed no urging. She grabbed his arm, and they headed for Central Park. They walked in silence for a while, each one deep in their own thoughts.

Finally Jace pulled her into a secluded grove of trees, and they sat down on a patch of grass, invisible to anyone who might happen by.

"So," Jace said slowly. "What are we?"

"Um." Clary shrugged, unsure how to approach the question. "Friends?"

"I don't want to be friends." He sighed and looked so unhappy for a moment that Clary almost threw her arms around him. "Ever since I met you at that band gig, I've thought about you every day. I've been losing sleep, thinking about all the 'what ifs' that could happen."

She flushed pink, and looked down at her hands. Suddenly she had no idea what to do or say. She knew she wanted him, but it was a huge step to take, and she still wasn't sure she could trust him.

"Clary?" he said. "Clary. I'm sorry if I scared you. I don't want to hurt you. Look at me, please."

She lifted her head slowly and met his eyes. "I think..." she said quietly. "Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"I'm not sure how I feel. Whenever you touch me, I light up like a Christmas tree, and I can't stop thinking about you. But I'm afraid of falling, and vetting hurt when I don't really have anyone to pick me up."

His eyes were steady as he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I'll catch you. I promise."

And suddenly she was kissing him, or he was kissing her. She wasn't sure which. She moved so she as sitting o his lap, facing him, and her hands twisted in his shirt. He slid his tongue over her lip and she pulled him closer, not wanting to let him go. Ever.

But as quickly as it started, it ended. They heard the sharp crack of branches and sprang apart as Clary tugged her shirt down.

"Well, well, well," a strangely familiar voice drawled. "What do we have here?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay. I'm sitting on my bed after getting my teeth pulled with a pad of gauze in my mouth and a Rune of Quietude drawn on my arm. Yup, it's a great day.**

**The songs for this chapter are Friday Night Bitch Fight by Ke$ha (trust me on this one) and Fallen Angel by MXPX.**

Clary looked up at the intruder and realized two things:

One, this dude knew Jace somehow, and Jace didn't care from him, judging from the tenseness in his muscles and the cold expression on his face.

And two, she'd seen him somewhere before, she was sure of it.

The boy was about Jace's age, or a little older, a Latino with dark hair and pale brown skin. He was grinning in a way Clary didn't like, and on his arm was a short, pretty blonde with a good sized 'rack' (as Eric the Jerk would call it.)

"We meet again, Herondale," the boy said smoothly.

"You know, Raphael, the polite thing to do in this situation would be to leave," Jace retorted. The veins in hid neck stood out and there was a fire in his eyes that Clary hadn't seen before. What exactly had this Raphael ever done to make him this angry? She'd never seen him like this, not even when they had argued in Simon's basement.

"Yes," Raphael agreed. "Unfortunately for you and Strawberry here, I don't feel very polite today." The blonde on her arm laughed derisively and slid a hand down the boy's arm, fluttering her eyelashes and making Clary want to gag.

Clary bristled at the nickname, but she didn't protest. Instead, she grabbed Jace's arm. "C'mon. Let's get away from this moron." she told him in a low voice.

"That's what he wants," Jace whispered back. "and I don't like giving Raphael what he wants."

Clary laced her fingers with his and put a hand to his cheek. "There will be another time. Another fight. Okay?"

His eyes softened and he nodded. Raphael's girlfriend snorted and whispered something into his ear, and they both laughed. Clary noticed how close the blonde's hand was to Raphael's pants and debated killing the both of them. As they turned to leave, they heard Raphael call out, "hey, Herondale, wait!"

Jace whipped around, ready to deliver some serious damage, but Raphael just grinned again. "I forgot to introduce my girlfriend Kaelie. Oh, but wait," he said, the smirk on his face growing wider. "You already know her, don't you? _Quite well_, I'd say-"

"That's it." Jace started towards Raphael, but didn't get very far. Clary held him back with a surprising amount of strength, straining towards the path.

"We're leaving. _Now,_ Jace."

He finally went limp and followed her out of the clearing, but not before he showed Raphael exactly what he thought of him. The leer didn't leave the Latino's face, even as Jace held up a finger for all to see.

Clary sighed and hauled an enraged Jace back towards 5th Avenue, swearing vehemently under her breath. She didn't know why Jace had reacted so badly to the mention of Kaelie, but judging from what Raphael had said, she was pretty sure what her relationship to Jace was.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as she pulled out her cell phone to text Simon.

How much did Jace really care about her? What was she, compared to sexy Kaelie or beautiful Aline or any of the other girls Jace had hooked up with? Sure, she was cute, but she wasn't _gorgeous,_ not in the way the other girls were.

She sighed, leaning her head against a tree trunk. Maybe the whole thing- the night at Simon's, the kiss in the bushes- was just a huge mistake on her part. Maybe Jace was just out to leave her bleeding in the dark. But for her, she knew, it was already way too late.

* * *

**Where R U? J ran into an 'old friend' and got a little upset... -C**

Simon muttered a curse and put his head in his hands. For Jace, 'a little upset' probably meant he was about to kill someone. He loved Jace like a brother, but he was just so _stubborn_ sometimes. And thickheaded. And asinine and about a thousand other things.

Isabelle peered over his shoulder curiously as he typed a response.

_we're Starbucks on the corner of 96th and Madison. Is J ok?_

**Yah, fine. Just a little teed off. We're on our way. See you in a few, geek boy.**

_Geek yourself._

Simon shoved his phone back into his pocket and realised his eyebrows. "It seems like our friend is having some anger issues."

Isabelle groaned and rested her forehead on the table. "Why am I not surprised?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Happy New Year, everyone! I'm at my aunt's house writing instead of at a party (this is a testament to how much my social life sucks) and I decided to write the next chapter. Oh, yeah, and I frickin' cried while writing this, so grab some tissues and hang on.**

**The chapter song is Skin by Zola Jesus (song from the Romeo&Juliet trailer.)**

Twenty minutes, five vanilla scones, and two black coffees later, they had managed to calm Jace down, although he was still glaring at the wall. Clary hadn't let go of his hand, and he gripped it like a lifeline, so hard it hurt. Clary said nothing, sensing his need, only continued to hold his hand as he told Simon and Isabelle what had transpired.

"I'm gonna kill the bastard," he finished with a scowl.

"No, you're not," said Isabelle.

"Yes, I am. You don't know what he did to me. You could never -" he stopped abruptly, with an audible gasp, squeezing Clary's hand even and Simon shared a knowing glance. Clary felt uncomfortably alien, out of place; these people had grown up together, and she would probably never be included in quite the same way. They weren't shutting her out intentionally, she knew, but it was something that couldn't be helped.

And then there was the more pressing issue: what exactly had Raphael done to Jace to make him hate him so much? Jace was quick to anger, Clary knew that much from experience. But he was also quick to forgive, it it was hard to imagine him holding a grudge for more than a couple days. Raphael must have done something truly terrible.

Jace, she realized, might just be as scarred as she herself was. She had been beaten and abused, maybe he was no different. She remembered the scar she'd seen on his shoulder on the day they'd first kissed- had it really been only yesterday?- and shivered.

Although it was late summer, the air was cool and the sky rumbled with the promise of an impending storm, not unlike the mood of Clary's friends. The tension in the air was palpable, and it spoke for itself.

"Jace," she whispered, and his gaze locked on hers. She ran her thumb over his knuckles as she continued, "you need to be stronger than he is. Don't sink to his level. Raphael is just a sick bastard who gets off of tormenting people. Don't be like him. You're better, I know you are."

_I think I might be in love you. _The words hung unspoken between the two of them, and there was a long beat of silence.

Then his eyes hardened, and he looked at her with the cool stare of a stranger. "Well, obviously you don't know me well," he said in a voice cold as ice. "I'm no better than he is. In my world, it's hurt or be hurt, and I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Now if you'll excuse me."

He wrenched his hand from her grip and stormed out of the coffee shop. Clary sprinted to catch up with him, and left Simon and Isabelle staring after them in shock.

"Jace, wait. Please-"

"No." He shook his head. "This- us -just won't work out. I can see that already. I'm not who you think I am and I can't be what you want me to be. We'll only break each other to bits. I think it would be best for both of us to acknowledge that."

Clary was stunned into silence, tears forming behind her eyes as she realized what he was saying.

"Goodbye, Clary." His lips brushed hers, light as a feather, but she was too shocked to respond. She was frozen in place. If she could have, she would have pulled him to her and refused to let go, there was so much more she needed to say to him-

But he was already gone. She was alone under the dark sky, realizing that she'd just lost something irreplaceable.

It was starting to rain, and she knew that she should leave, get Simon and Isabelle and go home, safe. But it hurt too much, and the pain was such that she could barely breathe. She touched her lips, as if he had left some clue, a missing piece of the puzzle there, but it was too late.

It all felt like a dream to her now, a sad, achingly beautiful mirage. She had been happy for those brief hours, and they had slipped away like butterflies on silken wings. She couldn't help the longing that swept through her and yet she knew that she could never have what she wanted.

She crumpled and sat cross legged on the ground as the rain started to pour in earnest, along with her own tears. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, but no amount of crying and screaming could bring him back. She know that now, just as surely as she knew he'd never been hers, or anyone's really. He'd thrown her heart on the ground and walked all over it, and yet she loved him so much it scared her.

Love. Pain. That was her entire world. Jace was both, and everyone else was mostly one or the other.

She ran. Going nowhere and everywhere, she'd never felt so lost. God, loving Jace was going to kill her, unravel her from the inside out.

But what did she care?

She stood in the rain until a yellow taxi came screeching to the curb. She climbed inside and gave her address to the driver. As she leaned her head against the window and watched the blur of city lights through the rain, she thought she saw a flash of gold.


	14. Chapter 14

"_Entre la nuit, la nuit et l'aurore_  
_Entre les voyants, les vivants et les morts"_

_(Roughly translated as 'between the night, night and dawn. Between the realm of the living and the dead"_

**Reflektor by Arcade Fire**

* * *

**The song for this chapter is Reflektor by Arcade Fire. This is where the story starts getting creepy...**

_She was in the Morgensterns' basement again, although Jonathan and Valentine were nowhere to be seen. She shuddered as her gaze touched on knives, rusted manacles, blood, dried and fresh, pooled on the floor-_

_And realized she was not alone in the room. An angel lay limp in the corner of the room, its wrists bound by chains. One wing was hanging at an odd angle, and white feathers drifted to the cement floor like new snow, where they mixed with the blood. Its body was lean and muscular and, even bruised and bleeding, beautiful. Something about it- him- called to Clary, although she wasn't sure why._

_She made a small, pained noise in the back of her throat, and approached the creature as one might approach a wounded animal, cautiously and ready to run at a moment's notice. "It's alright. I won't hurt you," she said softly, and the angel pulled himself into a sitting position, still facing the wall._

_His wings, she realized with a shock, had turned black as the night._

_"Who are you?" she said with a slight tremor. She had to know, had to know why she felt an undeniable pull towards him._

_The angel turned. Golden eyes, hard as steel, hair the color of sunlight-_

-And Clary woke with a start, her heart in her throat, gasping for air. Her eyes stung, and she clutched the pillow for support. Just last night, she'd lain in Jace's arms, without a care in the world. Now he was gone from her, maybe forever, but she couldn't just forget him. Not that fast.

Jace. How had he managed to make her fall for him in less than a week? She wanted him so badly it hurt, but it was pretty obvious that he didn't want or need her.

He'd probably had an insane amount of 'girlfriends' before her, anyway. She thought of Kaelie and shuddered. Clary wasn't that type of girl, not as pretty and not as fun to be around. He'd kissed her- and why? To prove he could have any girl he wanted?

She slid her feet over the side of the bed and climbed down, looking at her pale, black-and-white reflection in the darkened mirror. Behind her, the moon outside cast an unearthly glow around the room.

Once, in one of the few history classes she hadn't slept through, she'd heard about an old, strange legend. On certain nights a year, Swedish men used to starve themselves and then go on a 'year walk' to see what their future held, often claiming to have seen strange beasts, and sometimes disappearing- forever. She thought it a good story but hadn't really believed the tale, although now she wondered...

It seemed like the kind of night that strange things happened.

She slipped on some jeans and her battered green sketchers and went downstairs, wincing whenever she stepped on a creaky spot.

She finally reached the bottom without Jocelyn or Luke catching her, and slid open the door, locking it behind her.

The night was cool, with only a few clouds, remnants of the afternoon's storm. Clary ran through it, alone but only partly unafraid. She didn't realize where she was going until she was almost there: Prospect Park, the site of her first kiss with Jace.

She almost turned around, but something made her keep going, although she knew there had to be all sorts of perverts and muggers and who knew what else. The mysterious force that guided her to the park that night was like the angel's pull in the dream, she realized, wide-eyed.

The park was eerily quiet, the only sound being the wind in the trees. The full moon made everything silver and white and black, another world of night and mist and shadows.

And a strange orange glow, coming from the woods.

Clary stole a glance over her shoulder and considered her two options: go home, go back to sleep, and pretend it was all a dream, or follow the light.

It wasn't even a choice for her.

She continued into the forest, towards the glow- had someone lit a fire? Should she call the police?- and stopped when she heard voices.

Every bit of common sense she had was screaming at her to leave, but she held her ground. She needed to know what was going on here.

She spotted a pine tree not too far off with low, strong, spreading branches and went to it, started to climb. When she was high enough to make out the glow clearly, she nearly fell out of the tree in horror.

There was a fire, all right. It blossomed in the center of sticks stuck in the ground in the form of a pentagram.

And there were four people clustered around it, all men- a tall, dark haired man whom Clary estimated at about forty, a boy in his late teens with hair as black as night, too black to be real, Raphael...and Jace.

Her Jace, with blood running down his arms, his head down.

She gripped her branch even tighter.

"Get up, boy," the older man ordered. Jace didn't move.

"NOW, BOY!" he roared, and Jace scrambled to his feet. Raphael and the raven-haired boy laughed. He walked slowly over to the pentagram, letting the blood from his arms pour into the flames.

And looked up, just for a minute. His eyes met hers, and she gasped aloud. She'd seen enough. She scrambled down from the tree and made a run for it.

"What was that?" Raphael asked. "Did you hear it? Someone's watching us."

She stopped short, holding her breath. Would Jace give her away?

"It was probably just a raccoon, Raphael," Jace spat, his contempt for the other boy clear. "They tend to hang around this time of year."

Clary didn't wait to hear the rest. She dashed home, her mind full of all she had seen.


	15. Chapter 15

**The song for this chapter is Little of Your Time by Maroon 5.**

When she woke, the first thing she thought of was Jace. Jace, kissing her in the park. Jace, holding her as she slept.

Jace, leaving her alone in the rain. Jace, bruised and bleeding, standing in front of the pentagram. Jace, walking away from her the night after she met him, telling her that he was going 'somewhere she didn't belong'.

He must've meant the woods. That is, if what she'd seen had been real and not just a particularly vivid dream.

Clary groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. She just needed to forget Jace and move on. If he didn't want her, then fine. She didn't want him, either. She'd find someone else.

Her phone rang, surprising her so much that she fell of the bed in a tangle of sheets in the attempt to reach it. Muttering a swear word under her breath, she disengaged herself from the bedclothes and grabbed the phone off of the dresser.

"Yes?" she said, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear.

"Have you seen Jace, by any chance?" Isabelle said with a slight tremor in her voice.

She thought instantly of the woods and the pentagram, but something told her Jace would hate her even more if she mentioned it to Isabelle. "No. Why?"

"He didn't come home last night. I thought he might be-"

"With me?" Clary said, harsher than she'd intended. "No. Whatever was between us is over. He made that very clear yesterday."

"I'm sorry," Isabelle said softly. "He can be a real asshole sometimes. He'll get over it, I think."

"Really?" Clary said bitterly. "I doubt that."

"I had no idea... Simon and Alec and I thought being around you would be good for him. He's just so closed off, and he disappears a lot and comes back with bruises and these awful scars. He's got some dark secrets, Clary, and we were sort of hoping that he'd open up for you."

"Oh." Clary said. There was really nothing else she could say.

"The day he met you, it was like he'd been asleep for his entire life, and you woke him up. He wouldn't stop talking about you after you left that coffee shop, and he kept staring at you the whole time... well, we thought he'd finally found someone to save him from himself. He needs that, because if he keeps up like this, he's going to end up dead in an alley somewhere."

"I..." Clary shook her head. "I'm no hero. I can't save anyone, especially not Jace. I'm just me."

"Maybe that's why he needs you."

The silence stretched on for so long that Clary thought Isabelle had hung up. At long last, she said, slowly and carefully, "you two were meant to be together. I can feel it. Don't screw it up."

There was a click, and the phone went dead in her hand.

* * *

When Clary was fully dressed with her hair pulled up into a messy bun, she took the bus down to Prospect Park, determined to find Jace, or at least the pentagram, to prove to herself that it wasn't just a dream. She easily found the path into the forest again, but the trees looked completely different in sunlight, and Clary had to admit that she had no idea where she was. She was at the point of giving up when she saw the pine.

"Thank you," she whispered, a smile spreading across her face. She broke into a sprint as she neared the clearing.

It was deserted, which was unsurprising. The only evidence of what had transpired lay in the ashes on the ground. She knelt on the earth and let the black dust slip through her fingers.

_Jace's blood. Fire and stars. The flash of a knife. Her blood on the floor of the basement. Darkness. Despair. Pain._

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

She jerked back with a start. Jace was leaning against a tree at the edge of the clearing, his hands in his pockets. On closer inspection, he looked ragged, worn, as if he hadn't slept in a week. In all truthfulness, he probably hadn't.

She staggered to her feet, wiping her palms on her jeans. "Didn't sleep?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

Something like guilt flashed across his face. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"That's all you're going to say? I'm sorry?" she demanded, storming over to him and shoving him against the tree. "What about earlier? How you just left me like that? Huh? You could have _told_ me, I would have understood!"

"No. You wouldn't have." He grabbed her hips and pulled her in towards him. "It's bigger than you know. I left you because I wanted to protect you."

"From what?" Then her face tightened as she caught the meaning behind his words. "You?"

Slowly, he nodded.

"I don't need protection," she whispered. He tipped his head in so they were nose to nose, sharing breaths. Her heart sped up, and she could feel him everywhere, skin against skin.

And when he finally kissed her, she certainly wasn't the first to pull away.


	16. Chapter 16

**Short. Scrappy. I know, and I'm sorry, but I don't have much time. The song for this chapter is Supremacy by Muse.**

Later, Clary wondered how they even managed to make it to the Lightwood manor. They kissed again and again and again, and only the fear of being seen by someone was enough to tear them apart.

"We should go," Jace had whispered, looking around the clearing nervously.

"Why?" Clary whispered back, taking his face in her hands and pressing her mouth to his.

"If someone sees us..." he said, pulling back enough to look into her eyes.

"Oh." It was easy, too easy, to forget the rest of the world when Jace was around. Even knowing about what had happened the previous night, even knowing he carried dark secrets within, she still wanted him. And maybe, just maybe, his light could burn out her own darkness. "Let's go, then. Somewhere where they can't interrupt us." _Again._

Jace needed no further urging. He grabbed her arm and the two ran for the train station, laughing, as a silent, unseen shadow watched from the trees.

* * *

Once he was sure they were gone, the boy stepped out into the clearing, something his rumpled black hair. Some of the dye came off in his fingers and he muttered an unkind word.

The stylist had assured him it would look perfectly natural, but his hair still had a bluish tint after three weeks. And if him and his father were seen by their prey, they would be recognized regardless.

But now was not the time to worry about those sorts of things. He needed to follow Jace, as his father had had him doing ever since they had arrived in Brooklyn.

To raise a demon, a sacrifice was required. Luckily, the blond boy had easily been bought in by Valentine's threat on the lives of his foster family- so _touching,_ what he was willing to risk for his loved ones. He knew nothing of the sacrifice, of course, but the boy could count on his fingers the number of days he had left to live.

It would not be long before the boy made his first kill, and finally raised a demon, who would give them superhuman strength and power. And afterwards, they would go after the bitch and her daughter and bring them back where they belonged.

A terrible, evil smile spread across his face as he took in the clearing, the remnants of the pentagram, the ashes-

The ashes.

The girl had touched them. They still bore the shape and feel of her slender fingers, right along with the boy's red blood.

Not good. The demon Lillith, according to legend, required the death of all who touched the black dust in order to appear to humans. He swore loudly. His father would surely punish him, maybe cripple him for life, for not interfering.

There was only one thing to do. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his credit card, the one bearing his new name.

_Sebastian Verlac._

Time was running out. He had to find his sister, before his father killed him along with the other boy.


End file.
